


Not Like That

by LibraryMage



Series: Break Your Chains [6]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Character, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Gen, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Kanan has some misconceptions about how Ezra grew up.  Ezra tries to set him straight.





	Not Like That

“You had one of those dreams again, didn’t you?” Kanan asked.

Ezra nodded.  It was early morning, at least by the sleep-wake schedule they were currently operating on, and he and Kanan were the only ones awake so far.  Ezra had been pulled out his fitful sleep by another nightmare about Maul.  He’d tried to get himself to fall asleep again, knowing that running on just a few hours for the third day in a row was not a good idea, even for him, but he’d given up quickly.  He’d left the cabin as quietly as he could, something he’d gotten very good at from all the practice he’d had lately, and had made his way through the quiet ship, intent on just getting as far away from his bunk as he could, as if that would somehow erase the memory of his dreams.  He’d found Kanan in the galley, two cups of caf on the table, like he’d already known Ezra was awake.  Ezra had sat down without saying anything, but Kanan had easily guessed what was bothering him.

“You know,” Kanan said, a gentle nudge in his voice, “you might never see him again.  We don’t even know that he’s still alive.”

“He is,” Ezra said.  “I just -- I know he is.  I don’t know how to explain it, but I _know_ he’s alive.”

That worried Kanan.  If Ezra had a strong enough connection to Maul that he could sense he’d survived, it was entirely possible Maul _could_ use that to find him.

“I shot him,” Kanan said, unsure if he was trying to comfort Ezra or himself, “three times.  Even the most powerful Force wielders would have a hard time surviving that.”

“Getting cut in half didn’t kill him,” Ezra pointed out.  “I doubt a few blaster bolts are gonna do it.”

Kanan glanced over at Ezra only to see his eyes unfocused, staring blankly into space.  He could practically see the thoughts and feelings whirling around in the kid’s head.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Kanan asked.  Ezra stared down into the cup of caf in his hands.  He was surprised to realize he really _did_ want to tell Kanan, but just thinking about it made something in his chest grow tight.

“Maul found us,” Ezra said, still not looking at Kanan, “and he -- you just let him take me back.”

Kanan sat down across from Ezra, who didn’t look up.

“I would never do that to you,” Kanan said.  “It doesn’t matter what he does or what he threatens us with, if he finds us, I won't let him hurt you again.”

“You don’t know what he’d do to you,” Ezra said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kanan said again.  “He’s a monster who hurt you and I would never let him take you back.”

“He wasn’t --” Ezra started, then stopped, trying to figure out exactly what it was he was trying to say.  “I mean, it wasn’t always -- it wasn’t always bad.  Not all the time.”

Ezra felt a flash of that same almost-anger he’d felt from Kanan the last time he’d said something like that.

“He spent years using you as a weapon,” Kanan said, his voice dark and far away, almost like he wasn’t really talking to Ezra.

“It wasn’t like that,” Ezra said.

“It wasn’t?” Kanan asked, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe that.

“No,” Ezra said.  He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him that Kanan understand this.  He just knew there was something inside him, some instinct or impulse, pushing him to deny it.  “It wasn’t.”

But Ezra could tell Kanan still didn’t believe him and that instinct to _make_ him understand still hammered away inside his head.

“Kanan, he took me in when I had nowhere else to go,” Ezra said.  “He’s the one who told me what I am.  He trained me and protected me --”

“When he wasn’t the one you needed protecting from,” Kanan said.

“That’s not the point!” Ezra said, his hands jumping to his lap and curling into fists, his nails digging into his palms.  There had to be some way to get Kanan to understand.

“Yes, it is,” Kanan said.  “He hurt you and that’s what matters.  He wasn’t a good master or a good --” Kanan looked disgusted as he choked out the next word -- “ _caretaker_ , if you can even call him that!”

“That’s not what I meant!”  Ezra’s fingers tangled in his hair as he hung his head.  “But it wasn’t what you think.”

Kanan froze as he heard Ezra’s voice crack, desperation and fear and something he didn’t know how to name rolling off him in waves.

“Ezra --” Kanan’s voice was soft, but Ezra cut him off.

“Kanan, you don’t understand,” Ezra said quietly, almost pleading.  “It wasn’t like that.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment before he looked up at Kanan.

“And even if it had been,” he said, that desperate edge to his voice gone, replaced by a quiet resolve, “I would've owed it to him.  I owed him my life.”

In spite of his efforts to keep his emotions in check for Ezra’s sake, Kanan felt his anger rising up again.

“He tell you that?” Kanan asked.  It was all Ezra could do not to recoil at the anger in his voice.

“He didn’t have to,” Ezra said.  “I lasted two years on my own because I was lucky.  If he hadn’t found me and helped me, I don’t know how much longer I could have survived.”

Ezra shrank back, suddenly folding under Kanan’s gaze.  Kanan’s anger crackled in the air like electricity, a strange and unfamiliar feeling.  Maul’s anger had always been cold, calculated, in some ways even detached.  Kanan’s anger was almost overwhelming, like a too-hot room he couldn’t escape from.

Kanan’s anger melted away as he recognized the sudden, cold spike of Ezra’s fear.

“Ezra, I’m not mad at you,” he said.  “It’s him.  I swear.”

Ezra stayed quiet, biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything he might regret.

“Ezra --”

The boy stood up with an almost clumsy abruptness, like he’d been pulled to his feet.  Keeping his head down, pointedly not looking at Kanan, he left the room.

Kanan leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.  He’d screwed up.  Ezra had tried to hide it, had left to stop him from seeing it, but Kanan knew he’d scared the kid badly enough that he may very well have just shattered the fragile trust he’d managed to build.  Getting Ezra to trust that Kanan wouldn’t hurt him had been nearly impossible, and Kanan knew Ezra still didn’t quite believe that.  He probably believed it even less now.

But how could Ezra not see that nothing Maul had done had been good?

Ezra hadn’t told him everything.  He knew that.  In fact, he was sure what Ezra _had_ told him was barely scratching the surface.  But as Kanan sat there, what little he knew about Ezra’s past weighed on him like bricks on his shoulders.  How could Ezra have endured that for years and come out of it thinking there had been anything good in it?

But that was his answer, wasn’t it, Kanan realized.  Ezra had endured years.  Kanan still didn’t know exactly how many, only that it was a long time.  If Ezra had spent all that time being constantly beaten and tortured…well, he probably wouldn’t even have lasted as long as he did.  It was possible, maybe, but not at all likely for a young child.  There had to have been times when Maul wasn’t cruel to Ezra, and Ezra had taken it as kindness.  And as much as Kanan hated to consider it, there could even have been times when Maul had actually been kind to Ezra.  Just because the thought of it tied Kanan’s stomach in knots didn’t mean it could be true.

Kanan let out a small sigh.  He had to make this right, but how could he?  It had taken so long to create something even resembling a bond of trust, and he had probably just broken it because he couldn’t reign in his anger.

Slowly, Kanan stood up.  He couldn’t let this one drag out.

* * *

By the time Ezra had reached his cabin, Zeb had already woken up and left the room.  Ezra felt a brief stab of guilt, wondering if his argument with Kanan had somehow woken Zeb.  But that feeling was gone quickly and he was just glad to be alone.  Ezra had pulled himself up onto his bunk, one of the few places on the ship where he really felt like he could hide, as he fought to get some control over the storm in his head.

Ezra and lay on his side, facing the wall, staring blankly into the empty space in front of him, his knees pulled up to his chest.  A lump had formed in his throat.  Why had he defended Maul?  Why did he care if Kanan thought Maul was a monster?  Kanan was _right_ , wasn’t he?  And why, after spending so much time and trying so hard to prove he could be trusted and show Kanan he’d made the right choice taking him in, _why_ had he lost his temper like that?  Why couldn’t he just have kept his mouth shut?

The memory echoed in Ezra’s head, of Kanan staring him down, asking him _“Do you really want to go back to your master and just be a weapon for him to use when needs you?”_

Was that why Kanan had reached out to him?  Because he thought Ezra was some _thing_ Maul had brainwashed or enslaved?  Would Kanan have tried to help him if he’d known the truth?

It was the last thing Ezra wanted to think about, but he found himself pulled down another path in his mind, toward another memory, from long before he’d met Kanan.

* * *

 

_“What am I to you, Master?” Ezra asked.  What Maul had told him about Sidious, about how the Sith had turned him into a weapon, used him to begin the destruction of the Jedi, cast him aside, and replaced him, had been weighing on Ezra’s mind for days now, and he had slowly built up the courage to ask his master the question he was almost afraid to know the answer to._

_Maul turned to face Ezra and crouched down, bringing himself to Ezra’s eye level, a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders._

_“You are my apprentice,” he said.  “And you are no one’s weapon.  I will **never** throw you away like my master did to me.  I promise you.”_

* * *

 

Ezra curled in tighter on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on his wrist.  He was _not_ going to cry.  He couldn’t.

There was a soft knock at the door.  Ezra didn’t even need to focus on the other presence on the other side of the metal to know it was Kanan.  For a moment, Ezra considered ignoring him, but decided against it.  He was still learning where the lines were and he wasn’t up for finding out the hard way that this was one of them.  He drew in a deep, shaking breath before he dropped to the floor.

Ezra opened the door to reveal, as expected, Kanan.

“Can we talk?” Kanan asked him.

Ezra stepped to one side to let Kanan in.  Kanan entered the room and sat down on the edge of Zeb’s bunk.  Ezra hesitantly sat down, too, keeping as much distance between himself as Kanan as possible as he waited for the Jedi to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ezra said nothing, his shoulders slowly creeping up, still not looking at Kanan.

“Look,” Kanan said, “what I said was -- I shouldn’t have put it like that.  Or maybe I should have, but --” he stopped and sighed quietly.

“You’re right,” he said.  “I don’t understand.  I wasn’t there, I don’t know what you went through.  But I know it’s complicated.  I know you spent a long time with Maul and your feelings about what he did are confusing.  And I know I won't always understand, but I don’t want you to be scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared,” Ezra muttered.  He didn’t know if it was true and he knew Kanan didn’t believe it.  He folded his arms across his chest.  Even with his gaze fixed on the floor, he could feel Kanan’s eyes on him, watching him, studying his reactions.  Ezra swallowed, trying to clear the lump out of his throat.  It didn’t work.

“It wasn’t what you think,” Ezra said, his voice quiet as he tried to keep a tremor out of it.  “I wasn’t -- I wasn’t just a weapon.”

The small hitch in Ezra’s voice sent a spike of regret through Kanan’s chest.  Why had he said that?  Why had he reduced Ezra to that, not even considering how much it would upset him?

“I know you don’t like to think about it,” Ezra said.  “ _I_ don’t like to think about it.  But he did help me.  He saved me.”

“I know,” Kanan said.  Conceding that point tied his stomach in knots.  He didn’t believe that.  He _wouldn’t_ believe that.  He wouldn’t give the monster who’d hurt Ezra credit for that.  But if Ezra wasn’t ready to consider that maybe being pulled from one bad situation into another didn’t count as being saved, Kanan wasn’t going to force the issue.  Not when Ezra looked like he was about to unravel right in front of him.

“But that doesn’t make what he did okay,” he continued.

“I know that!” Ezra snapped, standing up and beginning to pace around the room, his anger building with each step.  “You think I don’t know that?”

“Do you?” Kanan asked.

“Of course I do,” Ezra said, rounding on Kanan.  “But that doesn’t change everything he did for me.”  He drew in a shaking breath, trying to reign in his anger.  But he couldn’t.  It had risen to the surface and it couldn’t be stopped.

“I know he hurt me, Kanan,” Ezra said, his voice desperate.  “Do you think this isn’t hard for me, knowing that he hurt me and never being able to forget every time he could have hurt me and didn’t, or every time he was actually _kind_ to me?  I wish I could forget that because it would make this so much easier, but I _can't!_ ”

Ezra hung his head, his fingers tangling in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he tried to catch his breath.  He didn’t know when he’d started shaking, but he now realized he was trembling like a leaf, his anger coursing through him, barely contained.

“Ezra,” Kanan said.  He’d stood up at some point and was right next to him, putting a hand on his arm.

“Don’t,” Ezra said, taking a step back.  He couldn’t be touched right now, and the fact that Kanan’s touch was one of comfort somehow only made it worse.

“You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you?” Kanan said.

Ezra drew in another short, shallow breath.  There was so much he had been holding in and it was crushing him.  He desperately wanted to tell Kanan everything.  Every moment of pain and fear Maul had put him through.  Every bit of hope and comfort he’d given him.  Every time he’d been left confused and scared because Maul had been kind to him when he should have hurt him, or had punished him when he thought he’d done something right.  He knew it would hurt Kanan to hear it, but it was like something was trapped inside him, trying to claw its way out.  He didn’t just want someone to know how bad it had gotten, he _needed_ someone to know.  But he couldn’t say it.  He couldn’t form the words, and trying felt like a knife was being driven into his chest.

“I think I need to be alone right now,” was all Ezra could make himself say.

“Ezra --”

“Please.”  His voice cracked as he said it.

“Okay,” Kanan said, glad that Ezra could at least tell him that.  “I really am sorry.”

As Kanan left the room, Ezra held his breath and slowly let it out.  It did nothing to stop his hands from shaking.  White-hot shame burned in his stomach as every excruciating moment of his breakdown replayed in his head and he tried to wrap his head around everything that had just happened.  He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he’d reacted the way he did.  He just knew that none of this made any sense.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes.  Without even thinking about it, Ezra raised one hand and dug his nails into the skin on the back of his neck.  The tears stopped.

Ezra sat down on the edge of Zeb’s bunk and ran a hand through his hair.  At least he’d managed to stop shaking.

* * *

 

For almost a week, every time Kanan saw Ezra, he would feel a hot rush of shame through the Force as the kid ducked his head, avoiding Kanan’s gaze, and made excuses to get away from him as quickly as possible.  It felt like they’d been pulled back to those few weeks after Ezra had first joined the crew and had done everything he could to avoid Kanan, which only made Kanan more certain that he’d broken whatever trust Ezra had in him.  Kanan desperately wanted to fix what had happened between them, but he knew trying before Ezra was ready would only make him withdraw even more.  And what could he say, anyway?  Sometimes it seemed like everything he did to try and help Ezra only made things worse.

Still, Ezra couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.  Eventually, one of them would have to be brave enough to take the first step, even with the possibility of causing more problems.  And to Kanan’s surprise, it was Ezra who did.

The crew had a rare moment of downtime, and Ezra took it as a chance to talk to Kanan without potentially affecting a job.  He hesitated outside Kanan’s door for a moment, steeling himself before finally knocking.  The door opened and for a moment, Ezra froze up, just wanting to bolt and forget the whole thing.

Without Ezra even needing to say a word, Kanan stood aside, letting him enter the room.  Ezra took a few steps into the room and turned to face Kanan, who still stood beside the door, carefully keeping his distance.

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said as soon as the door closed behind him.  He kept his gaze on the floor, his hands locked together, the nails of his right digging into the skin on the back of his left.  It made it just a little easier if he didn’t have to look at Kanan.

“I don’t know why I defended him,” he said quietly.

“Ezra, you _don’t_ have to apologize for that,” Kanan told him.  “I know it’s complicated and you’re still figuring things out.”

“It’s just that there’s a lot you don’t know,” Ezra said, rushing to get the words out while he still had some vague idea of what he wanted to say.  “And I know it’s because I haven’t told you anything, so it’s not your fault --”

“It’s not your fault, either,” Kanan said.  “I know it can't be easy for you to talk about any of this.”

Ezra went quiet as he steeled himself to ask the question that had been burning in his head for days.

“Why did you want to help me?” he asked.

“I helped you because I saw a scared kid stuck in a situation he didn’t want to be in,” Kanan said immediately, as though he’d somehow been prepared for the question.

“But I did,” Ezra said, his throat tightening up as white-hot shame flared in his chest.  “I never talked to you about how I -- it’s not like he abducted me or anything.  I went with him willingly.  I _wanted_ to be his apprentice.”

He looked up, not directly at Kanan, but into the space over his shoulder.  It was close enough.

“Would you have tried to help me if you’d known it was my choice?” he asked.

“Of course I would have,” Kanan said.  “You’re just a kid, Ezra.”

Ezra wasn’t sure he could believe that, and he wondered why he’d even asked when he wasn’t sure he’d even wanted to know the answer.  He couldn’t get past his certainty that if Kanan had known everything, if he had known he wasn’t dealing with some helpless little kid, he would never have thought Ezra could be helped.  Or deserved to be helped.

“I would have,” Kanan repeated.  “I know it’s hard for you to believe that, but it’s true.  The fact that you chose to be Maul’s apprentice doesn’t change anything.”

Ezra looked down again, his shoulders dropping a little as his right hand crept up his left arm, his nails digging through his clothes to bite at his skin.  He didn’t know why Kanan trying to comfort him and reassure him was making him feel _worse_ , but it was.  He just wanted to run from the room and hide somewhere.

“There’s just so much you don’t know,” he muttered.  “And I want to tell you, but I just _can't_.”

“I know,” Kanan said gently.

“I’m not scared,” Ezra said, choking a little on the last word.  He still didn’t know if that was true or not, and he didn’t really care.  “But just talking about it, even just _thinking_ about it feels --” he stopped, not sure how to say it in a way that wouldn’t worry Kanan.

“A little bit like you’re dying?” Kanan asked.  Ezra nodded.

“Why does it feel like this?” he asked, the words coming out almost involuntarily.

“I don’t know, Ezra,” Kanan said.  “I wish I could tell you.  All I know is that it hurts and it can take a long time to trust someone enough to talk to them.”

Kanan took a few hesitant steps across the room toward Ezra.  When Ezra didn’t flinch away, Kanan put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry if anything I said made it harder for you to talk to me,” he said.  “And you don’t have to tell me anything until you’re ready, but if you ever are, I’ll be here.  There’s nothing you can say that would make me think helping you was the wrong choice.”

“Kanan, I --” before Ezra could say another word, the door opened and Sabine stuck her blue and gold head into the room and gave a quiet, pained hiss like she’d just hurt herself.

“I interrupted a nice moment, didn’t I?” she asked.

“A little,” Ezra said, though he was secretly glad she’d shown up before he could say anything else.

“Hera needs everyone,” she said.  “Fulcrum just found us another op.”

“So much for downtime,” Kanan said.  As Sabine turned on her heel and headed down the corridor, he glanced back at Ezra.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ezra said with a nod.  “I’m good.”


End file.
